


My Crew

by Kamu



Series: Solely a Pair [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Skirts, Uniforms, mention of Snapchat, thigh appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamu/pseuds/Kamu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fukurodani decides one day that there will be a change in uniform for their students as part of an experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Crew

**Author's Note:**

> [:~)](http://blogs.wsj.com/japanrealtime/2014/11/13/students-at-japan-high-school-switch-uniforms-with-opposite-sex/)   
> 

There is no escape, no running or place to hide. Akaashi is completely surrounded.

They are everywhere. He doesn’t know where to look but they are staring right at him, too. His dignity has escaped through the window as he fidgets under their critical gaze, his palms sweating around the tight hold he has on his blazer.

He wonders how he got himself into this situation in the first place.

The answer stems from the source of basically every problem he’s had in the past year and a half.

_Bokuto-san._

 

xXx

He’s thinking all of this is painful to watch because there is no way some guys can pull off the look without wearing it correctly with the right attitude. They look too uncomfortable with the extra draft on their legs. The girls look nice in their clothes, though there might be a need of a tailor to have them fit properly. Taken from a different perspective, the girls will always look okay if not a little consumed by the uniform and the guys…

...they’re not _him_.

Right then, he hears someone hooting and causing a ruckus from a distance and Akaashi thinks, _oh no_.

He stays at his spot against the wall, acting as normal as he thinks he usually is around the other bustling Fukurodani students. He listens as quick footsteps draw nearer until they stop next to Akaashi and a shadow falls over him. He looks to them upon arrival, not daring to glance down in dread of what he expected to see.

“You are way too enthusiastic about this, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi remarks as he observes his ace swaying side to side from excitement.

“And you, Akaashi, are not at all,” Bokuto replies back with a cheerful grin. Akaashi ignores the way his amber eyes rake him up and down approvingly.

“Nor would I ever show my enthusiasm for these kind of things,” he says, gesturing to the unfamiliar attire they were instructed to wear.

“Hey, you secretly love it,” Bokuto refutes with a twirl.

The skirt he had somehow managed to roll up to mid thigh (probably with the help of a female student) rises to reveal the top of his long socks and the fitted black athletic shorts he usually wears under his volleyball clothes. A yellow cardigan had been tied to his waist to add to the style of a regular high school boy in a girl’s uniform.

Akaashi has to admit, his lean legs look great in the thigh highs Bokuto had coaxed out of him after their many walks after school. Once it was announced uniform swapping would happen for sure, Bokuto was one of the leading students who had rallied for it to pass 100 percent, and Akaashi thinks everyone went along with it mostly because of him. Throughout it, Bokuto had sent him meaningful looks and thumbs up as the votes increased in favor for the swap.

“Please, stop,” Akaashi says as people begin to glance over curiously. “Everyone is looking.”

Bokuto halts mid spin as the garment swings from kinetic motion over his thighs and settles comfortably in its pleated design. He smoothes his hands over it to straighten the material and brush off any dust, and Akaashi wonders where he learned that from, to be so neat and conscious of how he looked.

The last thought is unwarranted and mean, but at the time, he was silently cursing Bokuto for looking so confident and undeterred by the change in uniform. He laments if this is how girls felt, burning with silent envy.

Dammit, Bokuto should not pull off a skirt so well. It's the goddamn volleyball, athlete legs.

“Akaashi, are you listening or are you appreciating my uniform?” Bokuto asks, and he realizes he had been staring at the edge of Bokuto's skirt while he had been lost in thought. He quickly shifts his eyes to see an amused grin on the ace’s lips.

“Repeat that again?” Akaashi says.

“I said, can we go home together after practice so we can take some pictures together?” the captain says slowly, a pout replacing his smirk.

“...Why?” He doesn’t see the point in it at all.

“So we can have a memory of this joyous day! I mean, aren’t you happy after seeing all these thi-”

Akaashi roughly shoves a hand over his mouth before he can say more, and he glances around furtively in case anyone overheard. To his relief, everyone is gawking at each other, girls commenting how handsome they look and guys shivering in the corner and complaining how cold they were.

He sighs and remembers he’s cutting off the air to his ace’s lungs and retracts his hand abruptly. Bokuto exhales loudly as he presses his back against the wall and slides down. Akaashi follows and carefully crouches with him, taking care to keep his skirt where it was supposed to be.

“I thought I was gonna diiiiie,” Bokuto exclaims between breaths, which makes Akaashi feel a little guilty. Nonetheless…

He grabs the end of the other’s tie and pulls it to him, bringing Bokuto in closer proximity.

“I thought we talked about this, Bokuto-san,” he reminds him gently.

Bokuto gulps.

"But…”

“No ‘buts’.”

If Bokuto was an owl, he would see his ruffled feathers flatten in disappointment.

“Okay, I won’t let it slip again,” he promises.

Akaashi nods in approval and is about to release him when Bokuto grabs his blazer sleeve before he can.

“What?” he asks down at him.

Bokuto has his cheeks puffed in sulking mode and mumbles low from the side of his mouth.

With the tie yet to leave his hand, Akaashi tugs at it until Bokuto is forced to face him, though his eyes stubbornly stay trained elsewhere with his arms crossed.

“...’s not fair, Akaashi. Looking so cute in those crew socks really kills me,” Bokuto mutters. “At least one snapshot for my phone background.”

Disbelief floors him. That was what he was upset about? True, he wasn’t paying attention the first time, but now Bokuto definitely has it in full.

“Bokuto-san.”

Something in his tone must have warned him of the impending doom if he didn’t obey. Bokuto turns his head toward Akaashi and faces him like a child caught with his hand in the forbidden cookie jar.

Akaashi lets go of his tie and holds out a hand palm up. Bokuto glances from it to Akaashi, his face blank. He sighs and grabs ahold of one of Bokuto’s hands resting on his bent knees and pulls him up.

“It’s fine,” Akaashi assures as placantly as possible, speaking low and hushed. “It’s not like there aren’t other opportunities like this alone together.”

Bokuto visibly brightens, the gloomy atmosphere around him blown away as easy as it had come. He squeezes Akaashi’s palm briefly before whooping.

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot.” Bokuto pumps Akaashi’s hand eagerly, his free hand pointing down the hallway. “Akaashi, let’s go!”

“Wait-”

Bokuto drags him to an open classroom where a bunch of students are gathered. As he catches his breath from the sudden run, he counts the number of people who are actually in their club. In fact, the only girls present are their managers.

“Explain,” he orders, trying to make sense of why they were there.

He faces Bokuto who has his back to him and his phone out while biting his lip as he focuses on the screen. Seeing as he isn’t listening, Akaashi lurks quietly closer and peers over his shoulder.

Snapchat is open and Bokuto is furiously typing in a caption.

_da bf's rockin uniform e v e <3_

It’s then that his own phone dings and he opens the app to see what Bokuto himself had sent.

The picture is taken from the side with a grand view of Akaashi’s exposed legs as he’s gazing unawares toward everyone else with a hand on his hip. The blurry photo is so embarrassing and unflattering Akaashi can’t help but snort softly in disgust.

Bokuto tenses and reluctantly glances at Akaashi. He stares intensely back with his phone raised, the evidence in his hands apparent.

“Akaashi?”

He narrows his eyes further.

“You saw…?”

Slowly, ever slowly, he nods.

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

Akaashi doesn’t buy it.

“You sent that to Kuroo-san, didn’t you.”

It’s more of an educated guess than a question.

“Why did you feel the need to send it to me, too?”

His eyes flit from side to side looking for an escape route. Unfortunately, he’s walled in with Akaashi blocking the only exit.

The situation from an outsider’s point of view would look strange, with Bokuto having a slight advantage over Akaashi in height and weight yet backed into a corner. To Akaashi, it doesn't matter at all. With Bokuto alone and not with his partner in crime (Kuroo), he can at least behave to the best of his ability outside of practice. There are times where he can tolerate his actions but this - his legs in socks and uniform - is over the line and private.

Bokuto regards Akaashi shiftily but clutches his phone fiercely in his hand like it's his only life line. He considers arguing for it, but closes his mouth when he realizes how much of a big deal it would seem to everyone present. Overreacting in this type of situation isn't like Akaashi.

Akaashi knows his own boundaries and he's not one to ruin Bokuto's fun for no reason. In fact, he goes along with his schemes reluctantly, if for the sake of getting him out of trouble. He doesn't control Bokuto, no, he allows him full reign of himself as long as he returns to Akaashi and does what he needs to do, most of it for the team and the rest for himself, selfishly.

Letting his stern expression fall, Akaashi relents and backs off with a sigh.

“I hope Kuroo-san doesn’t screenshot that,” he voices out loud.

Bokuto takes this as a sign that he’s in the clear for now. “Even if he did, his setter - ya know, the dyed blond - would probably stare at Kuroo until he deletes it in guilt. I know, it’s happened before,” he adds quickly.

Akaashi is secretly glad there’s also someone keeping the other team’s captain in check.

There’s a gasp from behind them, and they both turn to see their first year manager, Kaori, covering her mouth as she stares wide at them.

“This isn’t fair!” she exclaims to the other manager.

“I know,” Yukie agrees solemnly. “I knew volleyball did something for the boys, but I never knew it would work out in their favor so well in this case. It’s so different without knee pads and shorts.”

They bring their heads together and whisper back and forth, occasionally sneaking glances at the bemused Akaashi and giggles toward Bokuto who had gone over to play around with the other posing club members. Finally, with a determined nod, they march over to Akaashi and get in his space.

“Akaashi-kun,” Yukie says.

"Yes?" A sense of unease that only happens around his ace settles in the pit of his stomach.

She smiles sweetly, which is more disarming than reassuring. "We need you out here with us! Kacchan and I absolutely need you to follow our directions. Please?" Her eyes grow wide and doe-eyed. She probably learned that from Bokuto after seeing it in action so often.

Akaashi has never denied the look before, and doesn’t plan on breaking that streak soon. Besides, there’s zero reason to refuse as they ask. At least, he doesn’t think there is.

When he nods warily, they catch each other’s eyes in triumph. The girls simultaneously reach out to grab an arm and tug Akaashi out the classroom.

“Hey, where’s Akaashi?” A club member wonders.

Bokuto looks around and finds his number one setter missing.

“I saw him walking out with the girls a minute ago,” Konoha says, a knowing grin on his face. “One on each arm, Akaashi in the middle, oh boy.”

“What?” the club members cry out in devastation and shock. “Traitor! I thought it was an unspoken rule that they were off limits!”

Konoha quirks an eyebrow. “Do you think Akaashi cares? I think the girls love it, how cool he is about most everything. I’ve heard them call him pretty, sometimes.” He shakes his head helplessly. “It’s crazy how popular he actually is.”

Someone gasps in realization. “Could it be the uniform swap actually threw them over the edge and now they see him in an even more _kira kira_  light? Since he’s in a girl's uniform, maybe it’s reverse harem?!”

“Uh, no,” another member shoots down. “What did you just say?”

“Shoujo manga terms, man! I’m all for the cliche and _fuwa fuwa_.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, but it sounds cool.”

"Gaaaaaaah!"

Everyone turns to where Bokuto wails in the corner with his hands in his spiked-up hair like a person who just realized they forgot something important at home.

“Captain, what was that?” Komi asks.

“This was a bad idea. Ugh, I knew I should have listened, Akaashi _knew_ what would happen, he was trying to warn us all!”

He’s muttering to himself, everyone realizes, gradually descending into his Super Ultimate Sulking Dejected mode. They don’t connect what brought this on but they try to comfort him either way. After all, the whole club gathering was his idea, and having the person responsible unhappy while they had grouped together is the same thing as not doing it at all.

“Captain, tell us what happened and I’m sure it will go away.”

“Yeah, maybe the girls only wanted to put a joke on Akaashi with badly applied makeup or something!” another member concludes jokingly.

“They wouldn’t do that. Akaashi wouldn’t get a laugh out of it.”

“We sure would, though.”

Bokuto stiffens and turns dramatically toward the window. “In return for making him happy, he’s being taken away instead! No, no, no, I don’t want that!” Bokuto bellows his woes to the ceiling and open window, his leg propped up on the sill to let his skirt flutter gently in the breeze. "Akaashi, come back to me!"

“What's with this noise?”

The club members in the classroom freeze and shift their attention to where the subject of interest himself stands in the doorway, unimpressed and transformed.

 _"Who are you?!_ " everyone simultaneously exclaims in their head as they absorb the unfamiliar sight of a dazzling, _long-haired_ setter before them. They could practically see the sparkles in the air around him.

"I know what you're all thinking," Akaashi says as he fingers the ends of the dark wig with disinterest. "The managers insisted on doing this."

They pop out from behind him with smug grins as they present their work to the boys.

"He seemed like the most likely victim - I mean, candidate to stay still while we applied the stuff!" Kaori explains proudly. She glances at Bokuto. "Sorry, Bokuto-san, but we ruled you out."

He snaps out of his temporary stupor from staring at Akaashi. “It’s okay!” In a moment of rare shyness, he rubs the back of his neck as he glances from her to where Akaashi watches him expressionlessly. “Just—warn me next time? I need to mentally prepare myself.”

She tilts her head. “Hm, is that so? I guess I understand. Who knew Akaashi-senpai would be such a good model? Right?” Kaori looks to Yukie, and she nods quickly in agreement.

A member, the one from earlier who was enthusiastic about shoujo manga, comes up to Akaashi and grabs his hands. "Whoa, you can probably do cosplay at this rate! Have you ever considered it?" he asks with stars in his eyes.

"I don't read manga that often," Akaashi says while eyeing the hands holding his.

He slumps a little and releases Akaashi's hands to shrug. "Aw, that's too bad," he says. He doesn't sound too disappointed.

"Anyways!" Bokuto comes in between them abruptly and announces in a loud voice. "Let's take that club picture now."

"Eh, but I wanted to get some makeup on, too! If I'm going to take a picture, I gotta look my best."

"I don't even know how. What's that eye brush stuff again?"

"Dude, it's mascara. Learn your basic makeup terms."

“Um, do you want us to help?” Yukie suggests among the throng of protests.

The surrounding boys are silent for two seconds before jumping up and shouting their thanks in excitement as they crowd around the girls.

“For real? Oh man, I’ll buy whatever you want from the machine!”

"Please, if you would! I promise I'll clean up and make as little mess as possible after today's practice."

"Okay, okay, one at a time." Akaashi tries to placate them to no avail. They bustle around the overwhelmed managers, heedless to their uncomfortable expressions.

"HEY!"

The people in the room stop what they're doing and look where Bokuto stands regally on top of a desk with his arms crossed and everything below the skirt seen easily at their floor vantage point. If not for his serious expression, someone would have dared to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Where are your manners?" Bokuto sniffs haughtily, and everyone thinks maybe he's matured a bit. "Ignoring Akaashi when he's looking so pretty has got to be a crime!"

"Oi!" Akaashi whacks his leg out of reflex.

"It's fine," Kaori assures with a sheepish laugh. "As long as everyone is patient, we'll finish this up in no time. This is good experience for us anyway."

"Unfortunately the only wig we have is this one, so we'll have to make do with scrunchies and clips," Yukie says with worry. She looks around at the crowd of boys. "Is that okay?"

They nod their heads obediently, acting on their best behavior to get in line first. They glance at Akaashi casually leaning against the edge of a desk with his legs crossed away from the rest of them. The shine of the dark strands set over one shoulder catches the light from outside.

 _"Yep, the wig should stay where it is_ ," they all agree silently.

As they buzz around and organize themselves, no one notices Bokuto staring at Akaashi as he gazes out the window with a faraway, blank look in his eyes.

 

xXx 

“Is this how you planned it out to be?” Akaashi asks as they walk side by side on the empty street.

“Not really,” Bokuto admits with his hands behind his head. He's already switched out into his regular uniform, refreshed after a post-practice shower. “I’d rather see you like that alone and to myself than have everyone admire you like today. I could tell you didn't like it that much.”

Akaashi feels the heat on his cheeks, and is grateful for the darkness after hours.

What a smooth talker. Flirt. A natural way with words, Bokuto has.

Too attentive for his own good.

“Me, too,” he mumbles quietly into his owl-patterned scarf. “I was overwhelmed by the stares. The wig was itchy, too.”

Overall, most of the time they were complimenting him, but he wasn’t used to the attention; that role is reserved for Bokuto to maintain the spotlight and be showered with attention. Now Akaashi, he’s supposed to be a supporting role in the background. He's designated the role of the responsible caretaker, the unremarkable person who pulls along the shining star that is Bokuto across the sky in a streak of light.

The other members of the team play the role as well, but Akaashi has even more impact as the one giving Bokuto that energy to shine, passing his energy through the pads of his fingers, into the volleyball, and to the direct line of his ace's waiting palm.

Bam, there goes his grand moment. Ended before it even started.

As they posed for the picture together, the club members had insisted he sit in the middle of the row of members who were kneeling with a hand on their lap and the other raised to their cheek in a peace sign. He had refused until Bokuto gave him the Look—the one he mentioned before, the irresistible doe eyes.

_Now that wasn’t fair, Bokuto-san._

He contemplates the photo he was given. His eyes naturally draw to where Bokuto poses with an arm thrown over Akaashi's shoulders. Akaashi was looking at the ground then in surprise.

There were several photos that were taken, but this one the club members had unanimously agreed is the best. The volleyball club looked lively and like a family as they goofed off and made silly faces at the camera. It represented the atmosphere and bonds of the members accurately in its truest sense.

It’s all good and everything, but the one significant thing Akaashi noticed in each photo was the direction of Bokuto’s eyes. In every shot, from serious to fun, Bokuto’s gaze was aimed at _him_. He’s glad no one pointed it out. Akaashi has a hunch Yukie might have noticed too when she giggled behind her hand and winked at him when she scanned the pictures.

“It’s too bad that we couldn’t get a picture of us by ourselves,” Bokuto laments, his sunset-colored eyes trailing the path of a distant plane flying overhead.

Akaashi remains silent as he flips over Bokuto's disappointment in his head. He weighs this along with Bokuto’s toned down behavior.

He supposes his ace _does_ deserve a reward after all of the exciting events that had gone on that day.

“Do you still have those socks?” he asks.

Bokuto looks over to him, and it takes a moment for realization to kick in. He stops walking and grips Akaashi’s shoulder, the light in his eyes reflecting the sky and street lamps.

“Really? Are you sure?” Bokuto asks with renewed energy. “What if they don’t fit?”

Akaashi softly snorts and allows a small smile to show itself. His ace gulps audibly.

“How do you think I got the correct sized socks to fit for your height in the first place?” Akaashi inquires demurely.

“How?” Bokuto manages to get out, already garnering the answer with his vivid imagination.

Akaashi waves him closer to whisper teasingly into Bokuto's gradually reddening ear.

“One size fits all, Bokuto-san.”

The frustrated growl and wail of “Akaashi!” warrants a rare laugh from him as they make their way home together down the darkening street to end another day of two regular Fukurodani Academy students, the one who has a secret appreciation of thighs and the other who supports it with 100 percent might and love.

(But really, doesn't Akaashi know, when the setter said his thoughts unintentionally out loud, that Bokuto considers him as important as his sun?

To Bokuto, he's not just a pretty face or an invisible person he wouldn't even glance at.

He needs him as much as Akaashi dreams of him as his stars.)

"Akaashi, you know I love your socks the best, right?"

"..."

"Wait, my house is this way!"

**Author's Note:**

> I actually made a 3.8k companion fic about socks and swapped uniforms. I don't even know what their girls' uniforms look like, but readers sure as well can try to imagine it. These two will end me one day. Happy belated birthday my sun, the pretty setter that you are.
> 
> Edit: I'm laughing, there's a AkaBoku doujin out there that is almost the exact scenario as this, except Kuroo is an enabler and there's smut *coughs*, but either way Akaashi ends up wearing a wig. Also, the manager's names were revealed, so I input them in properly based on their personalities.


End file.
